Authors Interviewing Characters: Jessica Guerrieri

BOTH CAN BE TRUE

When a local mother goes missing, two estranged sisters are pulled back into each other’s lives and forced to confront old wounds, fractured trust, and the many ways a woman can disappear in plain sight.

Frankie is the funny one, full of restless energy and sharp edges, the sister who got sober, opened a bookstore, and slipped into a version of domestic life without ever fully confronting the past. Mere is the steady one, the caretaker, a mother quietly unraveling under the demands of her neurodivergent daughter and the loneliness of a marriage to a husband who sees the world through an entirely different lens.

For the Gilmore sisters, losing their mother to cancer at a young age gave them a brief window of closeness they’ve never been able to reclaim. But over the years, a mentally ill father, the unspoken trauma of sexual violence, and the different vices they turned to for survival fractured their bond and created a divide of resentment neither of them could bring themselves to cross. When a woman in Frankie’s social circle disappears, the sisters are pulled into a shared reckoning and can no longer deny the past that has shaped so much of their present.

Set against the backdrop of a quiet Northern California mountain town, this gripping and emotionally layered novel unfolds in alternating perspectives, revealing the many ways women vanish inside motherhood, addiction, marriage, and shame. Told with raw honesty and wry compassion, Jessica Guerrieri’s sophomore novel is a story of sisterhood, acceptance, the unspoken truths we carry, and the redemptive power of bridging pain into connection.

Authors Interviewing Their Characters: Frankie and Mere from Both Can Be True

As a novelist, you spend years inside your characters’ heads. You know their histories, their secrets, the things they’re afraid to say out loud. But occasionally it’s worth asking them directly.

For my novel Both Can Be True, I sat down with the two women at the center of the story: sisters Mere and Frankie. Their relationship—complicated, loyal, loving, and sometimes explosive—is the heartbeat of the novel.

They agreed to talk with me under one condition: that I acknowledge I’m responsible for everything that happens to them.

That felt fair.

Jessica (Author): Thank you both for agreeing to this interview. I realize it’s a strange situation, considering I technically invented you.

Frankie: “Technically” feels generous.

Mere: She did give you a bookstore though.

Frankie: True. I’ll give her that.

Jessica: You’re welcome.

Jessica: At what point in your childhood were you two the closest growing up?

Mere: Right after our mother died. We were both in our early teens, and the house suddenly felt very quiet.

Frankie: I agree.

Mere: We didn’t always know what to say to each other, but that didn’t matter.

Frankie: We became each other’s witness. Someone who remembered what life was like before everything changed.

Mere: When you lose a parent that young, you’re not just grieving them—you’re grieving the life you thought you were going to have.

Frankie: And the only person who understood that was her.

Jessica: Mere, as the older sister, did you feel responsible for Frankie growing up?

Mere: Responsible is the wrong word. I felt… aware of her. Frankie was the kind of kid who made adults nervous. She moved through the world like the rules were optional.

Frankie: They usually are.

Mere: See?

Jessica: Mere, from the outside your life looks stable. You’re married. You’re raising Lily. But stability doesn’t always mean peace. How does it feel from the inside?

Mere: Stability and loneliness are not opposites.

Frankie: That got dark fast.

Mere: She asked.

Jessica: I did. Can you expand on that Mere?

Mere: The truth is that motherhood is not what I thought it would be. Loving Lily is the easy part. Everything else—the expectations, the marriage, the constant feeling that you should be doing it better—that’s the hard part.

Frankie: The Poison of Should.

Mere: Exactly.

Jessica: Frankie, you’re in recovery. How much of your identity is shaped by that?

Frankie: All of it. None of it. Both can be true.

Mere: Nice title drop.

Frankie: As a bookstore owner, I understand the importance of good PR.

Jessica: I appreciate the branding.

Frankie: But truly, recovery is the thing that taught me how to live honestly. It gave me a way to rebuild a life that felt worth staying present for. It also reminds me, every single day, how easy it would be to lose that if I stopped paying attention.

Jessica: You two remember your childhood very differently—especially when it comes to your mother’s death and your father’s mental illness. Why do you think that is?

Mere: Because we had very different experiences of it.

Frankie: That’s not fair.

Mere: It’s not unfair either.

Frankie: I was surviving.

Mere: I know.

Frankie: That’s the thing about sisters. We lived through the same loss, the same father, the same house—but it didn’t land on us the same way.

Jessica: If you had to describe each other in one word, what would it be?
Frankie: Meticulous.
Mere: Chaotic.
Frankie: That sounded judgmental.
Mere: That was generous.

Jessica: Final question. Do you think you understand each other better now?

(Long pause.)

Frankie: I think we’re trying.

Mere: That might be the closest we’ve ever come.

Frankie: Don’t get sentimental on me.

Mere: Too late.

Writing these two women reminded me that love between sisters is rarely simple. It’s built from shared history, misunderstandings, loyalty, resentment, and the quiet choice—over and over again—to keep finding your way back to each other. 

Mere and Frankie may not always see the world the same way.

But they’re still standing in it together.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

BUY BOTH CAN BE TRUE HERE

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About the Author: Originally from the Bay Area, Jessica Guerrieri lives in Davis, California, with her husband and three daughters. Jessica has a background teaching special education but left the field to pursue a career in writing. Her debut novel, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, won the Maurice Prize for Fiction from her alma mater, UC Davis. With over a decade of sobriety, Jessica is a fierce advocate for addiction recovery. Connect with her online at jessicaguerrieri.net; Instagram: jessicaguerrieriauthor; X: @witandspitup; TikTok: @jessstayssober; Threads: @jessicaguerrieriauthor

Tags: featured, women writers

Category: Interviews, On Writing